


The Life in the Years

by bowlikesatumble



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2018-02-05 18:33:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1828168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bowlikesatumble/pseuds/bowlikesatumble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Petra Centric] I decided I wanted to know more about Petra Ral's life before and during her military career, so this is just a little something I've started writing in order to address what I think happened in those years of her life. [ Eventual Levi/Petra and possibly some Auruo/Petra in future chapters if you all want me to keep writing the story.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Life in the Years

When Petra Ral was a little girl she used to wait with baited breath on the Scouting Legion coming home. When the church bells would ring in the square indicating the return of the military heroes from their latest expedition from outside the walls, she would drop whatever it was that she was doing and run outside to join the crowd – a small face lost amongst hundreds that lined both sides of the street. She would try to get as close to the front as she could, pushing past people and crawling under legs just so she could get a clear view of the soldiers as they paraded through the streets on their horses as the pulled heavy carts across the cobblestone roads whilst the people cheered and approached those who had returned with open arms.

And then she would look for the symbol of the Legion, those two wings which were emblazoned on the back of a cape the colour of jade and wait until she saw a woman with hair the same colour of red as hers walk by and she would run out to the parade and smile up at her mother, so pleased to see her again and so proud of her without ever knowing why. She would climb down from her horse and scoop Petra up in her arms and she would smile and tell her daughter that she loved her before scolding her half-heartedly because she shouldn’t have left the house without her father as it was dangerous for little girls to walk around the streets by themselves. Petra would just grin back up at her, clinging to her neck and refused to let go until they returned home.

As she got older that feeling of elation never left Petra, even if she had seen the Scouting Legion come back home many times in the past. She would still run out towards the street and watch for my mother coming home, waving madly towards her instead of approaching or hugging her. But she was still so proud of her for making it back from the expeditions unharmed and couldn’t wait to hear all of the stories she brought back with her. It made her want to follow in her footsteps. But everything changed when Petra Ral was fourteen years old.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

The day had been like any other for the two members of the Ral family as they busied themselves within the small room that their humble family business worked from. Petra was carrying out her usual task of cleaning up the storefront, sweeping the floors to remove stray pebbles that had been trailed in by the customers who had come in to browse their wares in the morning and any leftover flour and breadcrumbs that littered the ground while her father Ernest worked diligently in the back of the room, pounding dough for bread and placing it into a stone oven to allow the dough to rise into warm fresh bread. When the bells of the church tolled, the sound rung out through the streets of the Karenese District, another familiar reminder for all that the Scouting Legion was returning home once again.

When the rich tones of the bells had reached Petra’s ears she immediately let go of her broom – letting it clatter onto the floor before she called out a quick “Mother’s back!” to her father then ran out of the shop as quickly as she could – the old wooden door shaking in its hinges as it was slammed shut behind the eager teenage girl. Ernest let out a soft laugh at his daughter’s enthusiasm but it was quickly silenced when the reality of his wife not returning home was entirely possible. Every time his dear wife embarked out on an expedition with the legion he would pray for her safe return and each time he would let out a huge breath of relief when he saw Lena on the back of a horse walking through the streets of the town. It didn't matter if she was wrapped in bandages or if she had come through the entire trip unscathed – he was always thankful to have her return back to himself and their child.

Removing the final loaf of bread from the oven and leaving it on a wooden rack to cool, he removed his apron that he had tied around his torso and made his way out of the shop, following the direction he had seen his daughter run in when she had made her brisk exit from the building. It took a few moments before he was able to locate his daughter, though when he saw her bright hair he moved towards her, standing beside her in the crowd of people who awaited the return of their loved ones.

Passing through the mass of heads, Petra’s hazel eyes scanned through the line of soldiers that had begun their walk from the main gates into the town, looking out for the familiar sight of her mother riding one of the horses while her jade cape blew behind her in the breeze. But she couldn't see her. Turning towards her father, she took a tight grip of his shirt sleeve as anxiousness begun to settle within her with each face that passed by which didn't belong to her mother. Ernest too had an unsettling feeling deep in the pit of his stomach. It was entirely possible that Lena was simply riding along on one of the carts with those who had been injured in battle. But soon even they had trundled past and there was no sign of his wife. The crowd was slowly shrinking, townspeople returning home with their families sobbing into their shoulders and others with smiles blooming across their features as they were reunited with their loved ones.

“She isn't coming back, is she?” asked Petra to her father, the grip she had on his arm growing painfully tight while tears started to form in the corner of her eyes.  
Ernest couldn't stand to see his daughter looking so sad like this – the complete opposite of the bright eyed and cheerful girl she usually seemed. He moved, wrapping his daughter in a tight embrace with her head pressed to his chest. It was clear that her mother would not be returning to them, and no amount of tears shed or pleading words whispered into the air would bring Lena back to them.

“Come on sweetheart. Let’s go home.” Spoke Ernest gently as he broke their hug and moved to take Petra’s hand instead. The urge to stay in the street and wait for his wife to finally walk past was overwhelming. There surely had to be a misunderstanding and Lena would simply be arriving later than the rest of the Legion or that she had already rode past the two of them and hadn’t seen them. But sparing a glance down to his daughter whose hair was now obscuring her face from the world around her, he knew that he had to do what was best for Petra regardless of what he wanted to do. Leading her by way of a soft tug of her hand, the two of them made their way back to their small home, heads bowed and their hearts suddenly very heavy.

It was as the sun was beginning to set over the high stone walls that surrounded the District that three sharp knocks were heats against the Rals’ front door. It had been hours since the Scouting Legion had returned and there had still been no sign of Lena Ral, so Ernest had thought it only inevitable that he would be paid a visit that evening. For the remainder of the day he and his daughter had been praying – praying for Lena’s return, for it all to be a mistake and that she would surely at the other side of the door with a bright smile and her arms wide open to embrace her loved ones. But upon opening the door, there was no Lena. Instead there stood a tall man, his blond hair lit up by the lamplight from inside the house, red stains marring his Scouting Legion uniform and a grave expression on his features.

“Mr Ral, I’m Captain Smith. Is there someplace we could talk?”

There was no questioning the situation now. Not when this soldier, the leader of Ernest’s wife’s squad was standing before him with the usually smart military uniform soiled from warfare. And finally the last drop of hope that he had kept in his chest dribbled away leaving him feeling incredibly hollow.

“Please, come inside.”


End file.
